Evil's Requiem
by Lady The Warrior
Summary: [In-Progress]In which Heather Mason's stuck in Room 302. And so the nightmares come back again...(Rated M for mentions of child abuse, self harm, suicide and sexual contents in future chapters)
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

This story shouldn't have ended like this.

I wonder when the clock stopped working. How did it even? Guess it didn't work properly from the beginning.

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

Something is crawling the dusty blooded walls. Everything's crooked. Everything's cracked. What am I doing here? Why am I here? Where is this place? This room … is it really my room?

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

Nothing's working. Not the television. Not the washing machine.

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

The lights are off. It seems as if they weren't on for so long. For so long the darkness kept consuming the light in my own eyes like a leech. _Just kept sucking and sucking and sucking and sucki_ …

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

What time is it? For how long have I been in this room? When was the last time I spoke to someone ? I just see this reflection… this face in television's black screen. A man in a blue shirt, his face covered in curdled blood. There's no eyes though… he's got no eyes. Just keeps staring at me with empty sockets and he is whispering, isn't he? He's lips moving so fast I can't even recognize a word he says… and there's no voice coming out of his throat. There's only _silence._

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

How am I still able to hear things? Like the sound of footsteps, walking towards me. They fill my ears and I feel my eardrum's torn… a hand… a clammy hand rests on my face, absorbing all the warmness I once had in my body.

 **"Mother is so proud of you. "** Whispers a man in my ear.

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

 _Shh…_ I think I'm alone again. I'm tired. I'm so so tired. _Should I sleep?_

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

I hear a woman cries. I blink but I see nothing. She talks in a low tone. I don't understand a word. I breath into the pitch black space surrounding me and swallow all the darkness in my lungs. I listen carefully. I try to focus.

"It shouldn't have happened." She whimpers. " Henry, what did he do to you ? "

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

 _Loneliness._

It stabs me in the back again. I can feel the man's loneliness. Is it Henry? I remember this feeling back when I started to stare at the frozen clock handles. I'm not hungry nor thirsty. I don't see a reason to clean myself. What's the point of getting up? To be heard? Or to hear things. How? How have I dived into his soulless body? How this story ended up here?

"Heather? Say something… please… "

"How long is she going to stay like this ? "

"I don't know, she doesn't seem to move at all. "

"I think I've mistaken her with a statue. "

"Richard! This is serious!"

"I am serious. "

"Heather… can you hear me? "

 _I can._

Something… a hand reaches out… taking my own. It's so warm… so alive, like it's injecting life into my heard. My heart's beating. I can hear it. _Slowly and calmly. Slowly and calmly. Slowly and calmly._

 **"Why don't you deliver Mother's message to your friends? "** Rings a voice in my head.

 _Mother? What message ?_

 **"You're wearing me out! Talk bitch!"**

I shrug off his shouts. I'm not his doll.

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

Alone again. I want to move now. I want to get out of this place. My head spins around. Maybe I need to go to sleep first. I want all the voices to go away. To be over. I want them to be gone.

"I announce her… dead. "

"Richard! Stop it!"

"Hey C'mon. Everyone need a little humor in their dull lives. "

"Heather… please answer me. " The familiar voice tries again. Again and again and again. Her voice echoes in my head. I want her to stop.

"Hurry… we gotta get outta here. "

"I don't care! I can't leave Heather behind. Not here… not with Him. "

 _Who is **Heather**?_

 _Who is **He** ?_

 ** _Breathe in...Breathe out_**

 ** _..._**

 ** _..._**

The silence has deafen my ears.

 **"Curse you Heather, Talk already!"**

 _Am I… Heather?_

No… that's impossible. I should know how I am. I know I'm not Heather.

Someone's shoving me. I feel like I'm drowning.

 **"If you want your life back! Better start talking NOW!"**

No… This story shouldn't have ended like this.

* * *

So yeah, I've read a fanfic here before about how Henry was possessed and how he saw stuffs and heard things in his possession. so I got this idea and the way I started this fanfic kinda resembles the fanfic I read before but it's not the same. As you might figure out this is Heather who is possessed and so... it's kinda different. I really like this to be more than just a one shot. Cuz I'm kinda planning to bring all the characters together in South Ashfield apartment soo... review ? Favorite? Follow?

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed.


	2. 302

_Chapter 1 : 302_

"Where're you staying now?"

"South Ashfield. "

"How's the weather there?"

The guy on the phone, David, didn't even know me until a few months ago…

After my dad was murdered and I moved out of our old place, trying to actually forget what happened in that nightmarish city to me… I decided to avoid people as much as possible. David, the freak I met in a bar, didn't seem to value my decision, though.

But then again how could I answer His question? If I wanted to describe Ashfield, what would I say? How could I wrap up such a mysterious place in small words, just to avoid further explanation?

 _Gloomy, foggy and somber._

That was satisfying… even for the guy who didn't care that much. He just wanted to buy some time for himself to finally get laid.

"Hey babe, you're there?"

I bit my bottom lip, "Good…it's good."

"That's about it?"

"Yeah…you know… David I gotta go… I'm kinda busy… "

"At least tell me where exactly are you staying gal? "

"Why would you want to know? " I sighed irritably.

"Well… I like you so…"

"No… I'm sorry. "

"But what about the thing we had? "

"No… we hadn't had anything!" I hung the phone, asking myself why I haven't done it, sooner.

He didn't care really. There was always another girl and I… to be honest, didn't care either. Why would I? My whole world was different from this people. I was too stupid to think I can be normal again. What I saw… what I've been through… no one knows. No one can know or else… I'll be the psycho freak who just saw things…

That's why I left the city I lived in and came here. I don't how it happened. When I first came to this place I was immediately attracted by the outside of the building, as well as the view from the windows and when I moved here, I almost felt like I was being drawn here.

I needed a quiet place and Ashfield was just about right for me to continue my dad's career as a journalist. Well not quite a journalist to be more specific... _a writer_. I felt like I needed to write to empty my agony, to empty all the feelings building up in me.

Now I asked myself, how can I describe South Ashfield thoroughly.

Should I start with this mysterious fog, clouding all around the city? Or maybe a never ending cold wind howling between trees and crooked buitding that doesn't allow you to open the windows at night or even in the morning. Or how the sun seems not to even exist in this town… so much like… _Silent Hill._

It seems like an endless loop, wherever I go… I live in a fog, I guess that's a part of me now, ain't it? It doesn't seem to bother me anymore.

South Ashfield is a small town with approximately not more than a 300 residents. Most building are old and crappy. Even the people are somehow… different. They seem like mannequins, only breathing. At least people in this apartment are like that.

In this 21 days that I moved in. I only met Frank Sunderland. _The superintendent._

He was the one who showed me this room.

"And the things in here, probably belong with the late tenant."

"Why are they even here? Wasn't he supposed to take them with him?"

Frank didn't seem to even hear my question. "It seems as if he never left… or maybe he didn't at all." He whispered to himself which caught my attention.

"What do you mean? "

"We live in a weird world, child. "

And he left. I knew how right he was but come to think of this room, and what really happened to the late tenant… I didn't hesitate to say, it freaked me out and me… of all people who all I wanted was to have a normal life.

The next time I saw Frank, I went to ask him for the key to my room.

I looked down at the key in my hand, " 301 ? "The old man didn't say anything. He just kept staring at the notebook laying on his dusty desk. I got irritated. " I rent 302. "

When he snorted and took out the other key, still he didn't look up at me. I took the key, angry at the man for his rude behavior and turned to walk away from him.

"Why Ashfield? " Asked Frank, out of the blue.

"What?" I paused waiting for an answer and when I realized there's going to be no response, I looked over my shoulder. " Well I wanted a quiet place, . "

"I know but why here?"

"Why not here? "

And I didn't know the answer to that. So I finally got into 302. And even though in these days nothing uncanny has happened here, I could feel this strange aura. I haven't left the apartment since then. And I became more reclusive than I ever was. I haven't met any of the neighbors and I even haven't seen Frank since then. This building… it seemed like a cemetery. As quiet and as… dead.

And room 302. It first seemed like a small, cozy furnished apartment with just a bedroom, small laundry room, a bathroom and a kitchen, just a perfect type for me but there was more than this I'm sure. So I should've known better, haven't I?

I didn't have much things myself so I kept most of the furniture, just added little pieces here and there; Like pictures, real pictures of me and dad when I was just a kid. But then I found something extraordinary there in my bedroom. It was a type machine. Didn't know if it was there from the beginning but I haven't noticed it before. Dad would've liked this for sure. So I put my laptop aside. Compare to this beast… that was just a piece of rubbish.

I sat behind the type machine and put my fingers on the keyboard. Something pushed me to write further and further.

Starting my line with this:

 _I, Heather Mason, am a writer. And the story I'm about to begin is about a room which possessed me. **Room 302.**_

* * *

Hey fellow readers,

Sorry I know the first chapter shouldn't be a filler of some sort but I needed to set a setting for this story and now... Heather is a writer. Daughter, taking after father's career I suppose. I would imagine Heather actually try to be a writer, you know. cause this is the only way to keep her mind sane or maybe not... who knows. Any way thanks to my first follower to actually follow and favorite this story.

Thank you dear megan daisy 9

As always reviews, follows, favorites are appreciated.


	3. Knock Knock

_Chapter 2 : Knock Knock_

 _ **Harry Mason never thought that monsters were real. He believed that reality is the only thing that was worth writing and monsters definitely weren't a part of it. Of course that was until, he and his wife adopted me. My mother- she believed in supernatural, she believed in demons, monsters and angels and so she was the easy target for my suppressed powers. Alessa still lived inside of me. And for some bizarre reason she liked to show off. My mother embraced those powers as a gift from God, in need of evolve. Not by torturing my soul and burning my body to give birth to Evil, but by giving me all the love she had.**_

 _ **You see, I can't remember any of those though. She died when I was little but Harry told me that was what mothers do. Looking at her pictures, I knew, my father was right. She was an angel among the monsters.**_

 _ **I wonder what would happen to him, if he was also given love. That little boy who knocks on my door every night and calls his mother ever so sadly.**_

 _No no…_ I told myself. _Scratch that. I don't even know who I'm writing about it. I wish I could ask the last tenant. But he is not here, is he?_

 _Alessa_

"Cheryl…"

At the sound of both my names, I startled. The voice swept out behind me to a shadow standing in the doorway. I rubbed the sleep from my tired eyes and focused on the target before me. My name, Cheryl, being called out in some voice soon slipped from my thoughts.

There was a man, silhouetted by shadows of the hallway, leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing an old dark raincoat. His features, hidden behind long messy hair. A part of me, wanted to run to the phone, call the police and inform them of an intruder but my body denied moving. And in that very moment, a feeling of grief overcame me, blurred my sensed and incapacitated my mental strength.

I saw him taking a step inside the bedroom, his dead eyes dancing toward me. For the thousand time as Alessa, Cheryl, Heather, as a living- I could feel life was ebbing away as I dropped back to the floor. The study lamp's bulb flickered, promising to die with me.

 _I once enjoyed taking life like this, didn't I?_ He stood right over me as the lights went out and darkness embraced our world. I never saw what he looked like.

I woke gasping for air. Sweating and panting, I realized I was in bed. The bedroom though was dimly illuminated by street lamps _. Was it a dream? Didn't feel like one._ I got up, turned on my study lamp and took out the paper out of the typewriter.

 _ **March 12, 1967**_

 _ **I look at you in the eye. I look at your beautiful green eyes and I wonder how such a cruel man can create something so innocent, so pure. He says a creature born of a deadly sin as adultery, is nothing but a monster, taking the form of a human. He says sooner or later this cursed creature needs to perish before dragging us all down in the depths of the hell. He says, we must ask God for forgiveness and purify our soul by abandoning it. He doesn't let me name you, snuggle you or even feed you. He wants me to kill you- but how can I? How can I leave you crying out of hunger? Mommy wants to protect you, my little baby.**_

Knock knock

The sound of the door made me jolt upright, I put the paper down and slowly got out of the room as I walked towards the door cautiously. A sudden shiver ran down my spine as I got close to it and looked through the peephole. There was a man, standing with his back facing the door. In the dim light of the florescent lamp, I could see that he had dark brown hair and had worn a pale blue shirt. His head was shaking violently.

Just by looking at him, my head throbbed as I felt nauseous all of a sudden. But my heart only stopped beating when he finally faced the door, looking straight at me with his two black holes instead of eyes that sucked everything and anything they could. And his lips moving so fast as if he was trying to say something but there were no sounds coming from his throat. Only more blood, spilled from his eyes, nose and his mouth, staining the collar of his shirt.

 _Who is he?_

I asked myself, talking as many steps back as I could, until I hit the wall and squeezed my eyes shut.


	4. The Other One

_Chapter 3: The Other One_

I chose a sodden day to go to the roof. It was pouring. The silver linings were growing dim as the clouds thickened and the sun was obscured completely. All of a sudden, I heard a deep, reverberating noise as the bright flash of forked lightening conquered the solemn sky, branching down all over the glinting metal buildings in the distance. I could have gone back inside but somehow being soaked wet that day made me very happy to be alive.

I had never been on top of this roof before. Threading softly to the front side of the building, I saw someone, standing on the edge. I didn't know many people in South Ashfield apartment, well precisely no one in particular, only the superintendent so it might have been one of the neighbors. Their back was facing me, so I couldn't see whether it was a puny man or a girl wearing a dark cloak.

" Hello!" I called them out of curiosity.

Then they looked back for just a split second and I swore I saw that she was a thin, ill looked woman with a big belly. _Was she pregnant?_ She looked away. I gasped in horror. _She was a pregnant woman_. My heart started pounding faster and faster against my chest as the realization dawned. _She wanted to jump and she was pregnant_. I couldn't move though, my brain froze and I lost my mental abilities all at once. I was hopeless but somewhere deep inside I wanted to give the woman hope. She already had one, why she'd want to take it away from herself.

"Don't do this, " I pleaded. Feeling warm tears forming under my eyelids, I took a step closer. "Think about your baby." Another one. " Think about the joy it'll bring to you." My face twitched and my voice cracked when I realized she wasn't paying any attention to me. " Please just come back."

 _ **" I'd rather die with my sin than live with it!"**_

The gruffly voice coming from the woman startled me but before I could even think of a response, she did it. I watched her leaning forward far enough knowing she succeeded in what she set out to do. She fell down like a dying bird.

I felt a single tear trickle down my cheek, but I didn't bother to wipe it away as it mixed with the rain, still falling down mercilessly.

 _Tap. Clatter. Tap._

 **My sadness is hollowness. I can't begin to tell what's worse. Sometimes my hollowness is a shell, holding a thousand oceans of tears. Sometimes though, it holds a thousand pieces of glass that are wedged in between my soul and body. That's the pain. Sometimes though, like when you were born, I realized how a forbidden fruit tasted so delicious. I had kept you awaken all night. I was already drowning so what one more sin as to look at your bright eyes all night could do. I remember the time my cat died and I cried and he hit me. I never cried since then. Or when everybody laughed and I couldn't bring myself to do it. That's the scariest thing, my son. Sometimes I am somebody, someday in pain and sadness. But sometimes I'm nobody and I don't seem to feel it.**

 **I don't seem to exist at all…**

I looked up at the typewriter, my hands shaking and my face drowning in tears.

 _What was happening to me?_


	5. Gone Wisdom

_Chapter 4: Gone Wisdom_

I talked with Frank today. There's clearly something wrong with him. He doesn't seem to be feeling very well. He talks mostly in riddles which confuses me even more. After what happened the other night, I needed answers. So I tried to ask him about the late tenant and the only thing I got was a name.

 _Henry Townshend._

The answer to all my other questions was on me. I still had some of Henry's belonging packed away in the storage room, so I decided to look into them but the only things I found were hippy clothes and some old scenic pictures that he probably had shot years ago. I had to admit though; the guy had an eye for natural beauty, the pictures were pretty good.

 _I wonder what'd happened to him._ I thought as I came across two pictures that were definitely taken in Silent Hill. The old lighthouse and the Balkan Church. Just looking at the pictures brought back painful, un wanted memories that I'd tried so hard to forget. Of course I knew both of the places, I just couldn't understand, why I had to face them again and again and again, it seemed like a loop I could never escape.

It made me sick to my stomach. I took a deep breath but I couldn't help the feeling of dizziness. I had to stop looking at them, before yet again I'll be dragged into the past. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

 _ **The lighthouse was a prison for misbehaved young children. All the pain, all the suffering they felt there. I could feel the deep wounds on my back caused by the whip. The blood oozed from my body. It hurt. It hurt. It hurts. Henry was there too, watching me. Why would he be? He didn't belong there but wait; he was the eye who witnessed it all. He was the wisdom.**_

 _But what happened to him?_

The sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor, made me shot my eyes open. It was coming from the living room. I got up slowly and took a peek into the living room when I involuntarily stopped breathing. My sofa had moved on its own, and now it was in the middle of the room.

Cautiously I entered the living room, still struggling to breathe. Somehow the air had become overwhelmingly heavy; it was like invisible hands were choking the life out of me. My chest began to go wheezy, I tried to hold on to a wall or something as my head started spinning and my eyesight blurred. My heart was pounding like it would explode any second now. I knew I wasn't alone in that room.

I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes as I fell on my knees. That was when I noticed a small hole on the wall just behind the moved sofa. Still struggling to keep myself conscious I crawled to it. There was a note on written on the wall next to the hole:

 _I don't think I can protect myself. He's truly insane. I can't hold on any longer. His power can't be measured. I was so scared today I sealed off the back of the storage room. I wonder if Eileen Galvin is okay. She has no idea what's going on… but she's in danger nevertheless._

Unknowingly I leaned closer to look into the hole but my whole body froze the moment I was met by a pair of green eyes, on the other side, staring right back at me.

"You shouldn't be peeking, mother wouldn't like that!" I heard a manly voice in my brain." Bad girl! "

I yelled as a handful of my hair was pulled downward then. Everything became hazy and I fell backward on the floor, losing my consciousness.

* * *

 _A/N: I must add that the bold italic paragraphs are the ones that are being written with the typewriter, consciously or unconsciously, by Heather._

 _And yeah she let her hair grow so it's a bit longer than original._

 _Plus I don't know what had happened to my Silent hill 4 game, I've lost the DVD and I don't have it anymore on my laptop so eventually I might not remember most of the details as the last time I played it, it was more than two years ago. I am playing Silent hill 3 though to keep Heather in character as much as possible, she might act a little differently here that's due to her well aging and becoming an actual adult and her experience with all this craziness._

 _Wanted to thank those who've followed and favorited this story and are still following me and those who are kind enough to leave a review. Makes my day. Really._

 _I'm trying to keep the chapters short but eventful maybe if I get a little more attention I start updating more frequently with even longer chapters but who knows I might do that anyway._

 _Cheers_

 _~Bella_


	6. Purple

**This chapter was inspired by "Waverer" by Akira Yamaoka**

 _Chapter 5 : Purple_

"Ah… I hope my luck changes before the party."

I look glorious in this dress. Uncomfortable yes, but glorious nonetheless. If it wasn't because of Harriet though I would never attend the party. The thought of being at some stranger's place with people I don't have the slightest idea of who they are, makes me anxious.

 _Ah… where could he be?_ Frank asked me today if I saw the guy next door again. I didn't. Come to think of it. It's been a while. He's either very shy or simply an introverted freak. Well isn't he just like someone you're perfectly familiar with, Eileen. Pff… well that is _me._

You can't blame me though, I tried to talk to him a few times. He actually looks kind of cute from those few times I have seen him in the hallway. Other than that I don't know anything about him. It feels as if he's a ghost. One second he is there and then he disappears. Sometimes I even get the feeling of maybe he is.

Hehe… but that's just ridiculous. He is a man. And he is pretty solid. Frank told me his name is Henry. Henry Townshend. And he is photographer. Isn't a photographer supposed to leave his home more often to take pictures?Hmm...

Who am I kidding? This town has nothing except a dead gloomy sky and some really bad traffic. People even aren't worth taking picture of. I would've left here years ago but it's just… it's just almost as if once you step into South Ashfield you can't really leave. It has been like forever ago I rented this room and now I'm just stuck.

 _Eileen…_

Wait a second. What was that noise? Did someone just call my name? silly. All these thoughts make me imagining things that aren't really there. But honestly what is the deal with room 302? Is he really there?

 _Hen…ry… Towns…hend…_

Purple really suits me, isn't it? The way the silky materials touch my skin. I have never been touched like this before. It gives me chills. Out of excitement.

 _Why… did… he…die?_

I wonder if I see him again. Is he ever going to come out?

 _Ei…leen._

 _Isn't she even more beautiful covered in cuts?_

What about the homeless guy I saw this morning? Ew… he was creepy and he held something behind his back. I wonder what it was.

 _Mommy…_

 _"Something's not right with him. I can see it in the way he wanders around hours after midnight. At first I thought maybe he was only sleepwalking. I called for him a few times and when he didn't answer I simply shrugged it off and went to bed. I didn't feel him come to bed until morning. I tried to ask about him though he didn't know what I was talking about._

 _It was all before last night. I saw him hitting his forehead against the wall at the end of the hallway next to the bathroom, whispering inaudibly. I asked him to come to the bed but he only stopped to look at me intently and that was when I saw._

 _There were two empty black holes there in his eyes sockets. Blood oozed out and he stared at me, with his head tilted to the side. I tried to scream but I couldn't. The air felt heavy and I couldn't even breathe. He was devouring me and I couldn't even runaway. More even, I could say that it wasn't even Henry. I was sure of it."_

* * *

"What… am I writing?"

I brought up my hands to look how they were shaking uncontrollably. The room was freezing but there weren't any windows open. Somehow I knew I wasn't alone. I just had to turn around to see how the walls were covered in purple wallpapers. I was dizzy, standing shakily on my feet and walking outside to the hallway. Purple room, glowed in dim light of night light lamp. Leaning against the walls not to pass out, my eyes stumbled on a silhouette.

A woman with short brown hair in a beautiful purple dress, stood in the middle of the room. My mouth felt dried as I tried to open it and call for her. She turned though, her face covered in little cuts as small leeches sucked on the deep wounds on her shoulders.

 _Eileen…_

"Did he ever not love me?"

I felt sick.

"DID HE EVER NOT LOVE ME!"

Her scream rang in my ears… as I dropped on my knees. Looking at the man in the old blue raincoat standing behind her. His long unwashed hair, had covered her eyes.

"Walter…" I said tiredly, looking at the cold smirk plastered on his white dead face.

 _I'm tired. I can't keep up with these anymore. Just...just please tell me what I should do to free these poor souls_? I wanted to say but nothing came out of my mouth.

I'm going leave early in the morning tomorrow.


	7. Familiar

Chapter 6: Familiar

It's raining… again. I don't know how many days has it been since I left the room. Or even slept. I seem to sleep a lot lately though but I'm always tired. It's never been like this or … has it? I remember last time dad took me to an ice cream shop, it was raining too. So bad we were both soaking wet by the time we reached the shop and it was closed. That was the worse day of my childhood self, we got back home and I was so upset I didn't left my room for the rest of the night and then dad came in with some old ice cream we had in fridge and although it tasted awful and dry I still loved it.

Harry was always there. And even when he wasn't I could still sense him somewhere in my unconsciousness, keeping my company with his stories. Despite hating fantasy he made up such imaginary tales I thought he could've become a great kids' stories writer rather than a journalist.

It wasn't fair… what happened to him. He didn't ask for any of this and nor did Walter's mother.

But at least he stayed. Mother… she…she just left.

I was sitting on the couch in the living room; lights were off staring out the window at the rainy dark sky, thinking of the past that still haunted us. The two ghosts I had encountered belonged to Eileen Galvin and Henry Townshend, the previous tenants of room 303 and 302. They were still here, not being able set themselves free or at least that's what I thought. Maybe Walter kept them hostage, torturing their souls or maybe he just didn't want to be alone.

I asked Frank about them on the phone and surprisingly he told me that they were both found dead with Henry's face being so mutilated he wasn't even recognizable at the time.

No one knew what happened to them.

Frank told me some sorrows were never meant to be washed away, somethings cannot be forgotten. Something had happened to that old man as well, I don't know what but he too can understand the meaning of loss.

I don't know what is happening to me. I'm losing more and more touch with the outside universe. I'm stuck in this apartment. I wonder if it was particularly the room itself or the whole apartment or even the town. Not that I am being kept in here by force I am just… unwilling or is it because of—

"Daddy?"

Dad… was there. I didn't realize that he was standing next to the window reading something this whole time. A red covered notebook, I wasn't familiar with.

"What's wrong Cheryl?"

"I thought you would never call me with that name again."

"Well you've always been our little Cheryl."

"Dad… I thought about moving from here, I mean I've been meaning to tell you—"

"Moving? I thought you always hated moving."

"I know."

"I like it here Cheryl."

I looked at him, his face still hiding in the shadows. But I could feel him smiling; looking at me with such hope and brightness I didn't have any freaking idea where he got it. I didn't say anything. I felt safe with him anywhere. It didn't… matter…

"Do you want some ice cream honey?" his soothing voice echoed in my head, the light scent of cologne he always wore filling my nostrils. I smiled back. "But it's raining."

"Does it matter?"

"No


End file.
